


aware of the reverse

by professor



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Biting, Bondage, Characters who Switch, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Character In Command, Female Ejaculation, Futuristic Sex Toys, Living Witness Universe, Manhandling, Mirror Universe, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Power Dynamics, Rough Body Play, Sensation Play, Spanking, Voyager Mirror March
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/pseuds/professor
Summary: Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Warship Voyager spends a relaxing evening with her favorite toy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hilariously, I'd already written a draft of this before lodessa posted her pegging fic this week.
> 
> I tagged both versions of the characters for sorting purposes but jsyk only two people appear in this fic.

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Warship Voyager saunters to her quarters, pleased with a good day’s work. Voyager’s weapons were operating at maximum efficiency, her cargo bays were full of plundered goods, and crew discipline was high.

Oh, and her first officer had been missing all day, and no less than four crew members had quietly reported to her that they believed he was plotting another mutiny.

She enters her quarters, sealing them shut behind her, enacting her private security protocols. She kicks off her boots and casually slings her jacket aside, leaving on her gloves and her undershirt. She pours herself a glass of red wine, staring out at the starfield as she inhales the aroma, savors the rich feel on her tongue. She really needs to take more time to enjoy the finer things in life. 

Speaking of, she wanders into her bedroom, leaning against the doorway as she unhurriedly sips her wine. 

And she takes the time to admire the sight of the man tied to her bed.

“Hello, pet,” she purrs. “Did you miss me?” His only response is the burning rage in his black eyes. She has no doubt there are many, many things he’d like to say to her, but the gag in his mouth prevents him. 

She saunters further into the room, taking the time to slowly circle around the bed, admiring her handiwork as she drinks her wine. He’s on his knees, bent over, each arm tied to one corner of the bed. His legs are shackled into a spreader bar, keeping them wide apart, and each end of the spreader bar is also tied the corresponding corner of the bed. The position forces his ass high in the air, leaving him totally exposed to view. 

She waits until she’s out of his line of sight before giving his ass a good hard swat, which jostles the thick plug keeping him wide open and ready for her. He makes a sound through the gag that could be a gasp or could be a yelp. She gives him another smack just to hear that delightful sound again.

She can see he’s tensed up, anticipating another blow. So instead she walks away, over to her toy chest, and starts perusing her options. 

She ignores the floggers for now -- it seems almost a waste of his current positioning to not use them, but that’s not what she’s in the mood for at the moment. 

No, tonight she’s in the mood for a hard ride. She looks over her collection of dildos, trying to decide what size she wants to watch him take. Of course, to be fair, she only has them in two sizes -- big and bigger. She makes her selection and sets it aside for the moment, as she strips off the rest of her clothing -- out of his line of sight, because he hates not getting to watch. Her gloves stay on for now, but nothing else.

She positions the cock right where she wants it and sensor tendrils reach out of their own accord, attaching to her clit, and sliding up inside her cunt, forming to her shape and holding the whole device securely in place. She strokes her fingers down the cock and the sensor tendrils transmit the sensations to her clit and cunt, a strange but exquisite phantom sensation.

She grins with all of her teeth, strolling back over to the bed. She adds an extra sway to her hips when she enters her first officer’s eyeline. At the sight of her, nude but for her leather gloves, cock nestled between her thighs, silver rings adorning her nipples, the rage in his eyes is joined by pure lust. 

She smirks, trailing her fingertips possessively down his cheek, along his jawline. “Did you have a good day?” The rage in his eyes intensifies. She unhooks the gag, pulls it out of his mouth.

He spits at her. “ _Fuck_ you,” he snarls. 

“You first.” She pats him on the cheek. “I had an _excellent_ day,” she continues, as if he hasn’t said anything. “Every time something displeased me, I would think of the lovely present I’d gotten for myself, and it would cheer me _right_ up.” She runs her fingers through his hair, down his neck, along the curve of his spine. “I got so wet, thinking of what I would do to you later. I ended up going to my ready room, fingering myself until I came, to take the edge off.” With every word, the rage in his eyes fades and the lust grows. It’s so delicious to watch. 

She brushes two fingertips across his lips, and he mindlessly tries to suckle them. “So eager. Well, as I was saying, that took the edge off, but I was still unsatisfied. I thought about summoning someone to the ready room to provide assistance. Mr. Paris, perhaps.”

And just like that, the rage is back in full force. “That _worthless_ \--” He pulls furiously against the restraints, muscles straining, even though he knows it’s futile. “When I get out of here--”

“Promises, promises,” she says, giving his ass another smack. He tries to snarl at her but it comes out more like a gasp. 

Truthfully, she hasn’t fucked Paris in a while. Oh, he’s decent in bed, and willing to work hard -- he’d certainly proved that when she’d offered to get him out of prison in exchange for services rendered on his part -- but why settle for a decent fuck, when you can have a magnificent one?

But anyway, to business. She saunters away from the bed, out of his field of vision, leaving him to wonder what she’s up to next. She pads silently over to retrieve a bottle of lube, and then returns to the bed, climbing up behind him, admiring once again how open and exposed he is. 

The plug pulls free with a _pop_ , and he lets out a low, shuddering moan. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Go to _hell_ ,” he hisses. 

“Hard to argue that you don’t want it when you’re so hard you’re leaking precum all over my bed.” In fact, there’s quite a stain there already. It looks like he’s been hard off and on all day, waiting for her, imagining what she might do to him.

She’s feeling magnanimous, so she’s generous with the lube, smearing it liberally all over her cock. And then she pushes into him, hard, fast, and with no warning. He howls in outrage. She sits for a moment, just enjoying the foreign sensations being transmitted through the device’s sensors, before starting to fuck him in a slow and steady rhythm.

A single voice command depolarizes the mirrors on the walls and on the ceiling -- she hadn’t wanted him to be able to see anything outside from his normal range of vision, before, but now that she’s here she wants to be able to enjoy the show from every angle. 

And what a show it is. She will never, ever get tired of seeing this man’s powerful, beautiful body bound for her pleasure. And his threats are sweet music to her ears. 

He tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t want this, but she knows exactly how he likes to be fucked, how to angle her cock to hit his prostate each time, with long, slow, deep strokes. Before long his threats dissolve into incoherent moans. “Look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut,” she purrs. When he opens his mouth to swear at her, she gives her hips an extra little twist, and his angry words dissolve into a whimper. 

She watches his face in the mirror, watching for his eyes to go dazed, empty, a sign he’s beyond thought, just hungry for sensation, for the pleasure she can give him. He’s thrusting himself back against her, now, all pretenses stripped away. Just watching his abject surrender pushes her over the edge, and she cries out as her own orgasm crashes through her. 

She pauses for a moment to savor the pleasure coursing through her body, to catch her breath, and he whines high in his throat at the loss. “ _Please_ ,” he begs, too far gone to feel shame. “I _need_ \--”

“I know what you need, pet.” She starts fucking him again, and he moans blissfully, his eyes fluttering shut.

She comes twice more before she allows him to reach his own climax. She watches his face as he does so, the way it goes completely slack as he cries out and empties himself onto the bed. 

He slumps bonelessly in his restraints, too exhausted to move for the moment. She could do anything to him right now. Anything at all. There’s a resigned wariness in his eyes, a suspicion that she’s going to use this moment of absolute vulnerability to utterly destroy him, and the knowledge that he couldn’t prevent if she did. 

And yes, she does enjoy destruction so very much. But the thing is, you can only break a toy once. And then you can’t play with it any more. Chakotay is a toy she intends to play with for years to come.

So instead she takes off the restraints, maneuvering his body so he’s lying comfortably on his side. She brings him a glass of water and sits down on the edge of the bed next to him. She drinks from it first, to show it’s not drugged, and then offers it to him. He’s still suspicious, but takes the glass anyway, and drinks. 

“I heard the most delightful rumor today,” she says, tracing her fingers along his spine. “No less than four crew members came to me to discuss your absence. Including Mr. Paris. They were worried, you see.”

The anger starts burning in his eyes again.

“Seems they believe you are planning a mutiny. I didn’t bother to disabuse them of the notion.”

He tries to hide it, but she sees the spark of relief flash in his eyes. This is what she gives him: plausible deniability. A way to save face. As much as he enjoys being the one to wield power, to be in control, some part of him needs this, wants this desperately. Giving over like this to anyone on his old crew would have been a fatal mistake. 

She’d seen it almost from the beginning, when she’d offered him and his crew places on her ship … as long as he offered her something worth her while. The rage had been there, yes, as well as some lust, and plenty of resentment … but there had also been a faint undercurrent of willing compliance that intrigued her. 

Many people would have seen it as weakness, but she is not a fool -- there is nothing weak about the man she made her first officer. She knows other captains prefer weakness in their right hands, but that has always struck her as both cowardly, and a waste. Much better to harness that strength, take it for her own. And take, and _take_.

She admires the view as he stretches out, flexing sore muscles, rubbing his bruised wrists. 

He looks up and smiles at her. 

And then he grabs her by the hair and throws her down onto the bed with him. He flips them so he’s pinning her to the bed with his body. 

She smirks. “Something you need?”

His eyes glitter. “Payback.” He bites down, hard, in a spot that will barely be covered by the neck of her uniform undershirt. Marking her. 

A savage grin curls across her face. “Do your worst.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “I intend to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I go here now. I have at least one more story idea in addition to my WIP, so we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Come harass me on [tumblr](http://professorofeljay.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title is from a quote from the "Mirror, Mirror" episode of TOS:
> 
>  
> 
> _"You would find me a formidable enemy."_  
>  _"I'm aware of that, captain. I trust that you are aware of the reverse."_
> 
>  
> 
> _\- Kirk and Mirror Spock_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, what happens next.

Chakotay loves the feel of her body as it struggles underneath his own, as he has her pinned in place. “What’s the matter, _Captain_?” he drawls. “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” 

Her eyes narrow and that’s all the warning he gets before she’s flipped them back over. He snarls and she hisses and they start wrestling in earnest, taking turns grappling and putting holds on each other, vying for supremacy. At one point he reaches down and grabs the appliance she’s still wearing, pulling it off and throwing it aside. He also takes the opportunity to strip her gloves off. She’s vicious in her struggles, scratching and biting him mercilessly. He cherishes every wound.

And then she changes the game and breaks his hold entirely, sliding off the bed and running away.

He grins as he takes off after her. He loves it when she runs.

She’s out of the bedroom and halfway across her sitting room when he catches up to her, tackling her to the ground.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, before biting down on her neck—drawing blood this time.

“Looking for a halfway decent fuck,” she says, feigning boredom. “Know where I can find one?”

He laughs as gets up and picks her up and slams her against the bulkhead, holding her there. “I don’t know,” he says, sliding his hand between her legs, feeling how wet she is. “You seem pretty satisfied to me.”

In fac, she’s _so_ wet it’s dripping down her thighs. “Hard to pretend you don’t want this,” he mocks her, echoing her own words from earlier. He fingers her roughly and she makes a sound that’s not quite a moan—not yet—and pushes her hips down to meet his thrusting digits. 

She’s just starting to get really into it when he throws her over his shoulder, carrying her back into the bedroom. She swears violently, kicking her legs and beating her fists against his back. He throws her onto the bed and then throws himself on top of her, pinning her down just long enough to lock her wrists in the same restraints she’d used on him earlier. He doesn’t bother cuffing her legs—at least, not yet.

And then he leans back to admire his handiwork. He can already see the bruises forming on her body. She’ll be wearing his marks for days, under her uniform. He gets harder just thinking about it.

“You’re going to pay for this,” she vows, pulling against the restraints.

“Oh, I know,” he says, sliding his fingers into her cunt again. “I have before, and I will again. But right now, right in this moment… I’m going to enjoy myself.” He pulls his fingers back out, never taking his eyes off of her as he slowly licks each finger clean.

He gets up and wanders over to the cabinet where Kathryn keeps her toys. Her collection had been a revelation, the first time she’d shown it to him. Shown it to him in full, that is, not just using one or more of the toys on him until he was crying and begging for more.

He makes a show of picking something out, but really, he already knows what he’s looking for. He’d had a lot of time to think about it, after all.

When he turns back to the bed, he finds Kathryn watching him, propped up as best she can on her elbows, legs crossed in front of her, eyebrow cocked as if to say, Well?

Chakotay saunters back over to the bed, selections in hand. She opens her mouth to say something, another taunt no doubt, but he strikes like a viper, detaching the cuffs from the chains binding them to each corner of the bed, and then attaching the cuffs to each other behind her back, flipping her over at the same time. The end result is that she’s now in a position not too dissimilar from the one he’d been in not long ago, bent over face down with her ass up, except that her arms are bound by the wrist at the small of her back while his arms had been pulled out in front of him, bound one to each corner of the bed. 

“Really?” she asks. “You can’t even be original, you just copy the punishments I give— _unh!_ —” She cuts off sharply as he spreads her open and starts licking her cunt. Before long she’s breathing heavily and pushing her hips back to meet his face.

As cool and detached as she likes to pretend to be, she can never hide how greedy she is for sensation. At least not from him.

She tastes so good, he’d eat her out just for that reason alone, but he does have an ulterior motive. When he’s got her well and truly distracted, he places sensor-pads on her nipples—stopping to give her rings a good sharp tug—and her clit and slides one up inside of her against her g-spot. The pads are data-linked to a glove that he slides onto his right hand. It’s not leather, but instead, it’s a thin, flexible material that conforms to his hand and makes it feel like he’s not wearing anything. 

He manhandles her again so now she’s across his lap, face down and ass up. “You know, you were right earlier, when you called me a slut.” He twists her nipples again and her body jerks sharply. “Which means I know what a slut needs. And how to give it to her.” 

“ _Fuck_. _You_.” 

“That’s the idea.” He brings his gloved hand down on her ass with a sharp _crack_. Simultaneously, each sensor-pad gives a sharp electric shock. The rings in her nipples make the shocks there even more painful, he knows from experience.

She cries out and her body writhes in equal parts pleasure and pain. It’s one of the most glorious things he’s ever seen.

“You see?” Chakotay doesn’t bother waiting for her answer, he just brings his hand down on her ass again. And again. And again.

Every few hits, he dials up the intensity or the duration of the electric shocks, varying the exact number of hits in between each increase, keeping the pattern unpredictable so she won’t know quite what to expect. 

She starts out swearing and making threats, but just like she was able to reduce him to incoherence earlier, he’s able to do it to her now. Words dissolve into moans, and her moans get increasingly desperate the longer he draws this out. Soon she’s rocking mindlessly back and forth, trying to press back against his hand, trying to grind herself against his leg, trying to rub her nipples across the sheets, _anything_ for some friction, something to bring her closer to release.

She’s so wet now that she’s dripping onto his lap, and he has to bite back a moan of his own. He wants to fuck her so badly. But first—“You can come when you beg for it, Kathryn. Or you can come if you can get off just from being spanked. But not until then.”

“ _No!_ ” It comes out closer to a wail. She’s so close to giving in. He licks his lips in anticipation.

“Let go, Kathryn,” he coaxes. “Let me give you what you need.”

She manages to come back to herself long enough to gasp out “Like hell!” But she doesn’t start threatening him again, either. Or tell him to stop. With a smug grin, he continues his ministrations. Waiting for her to fall apart.

He keeps spanking her, and he watches her body grow more and more taut until she cries out and then goes boneless in a way that tells him she’s just hit her climax. In that instant, he pushes her off his lap, towards the center of the bed. He pulls apart her wrist cuffs, flips her over so she’s on her back, reattaches her wrist-cuffs to each other so that now her arms are bound together stretched out over her head.

He strokes the thumb of the glove he’s still wearing three times along the index finger, which changes the sensor-pads settings from electric shocks to vibrations. And then he climbs on top of her and thrusts his cock into her hot, wet, slick cunt.

She’s still dazed and confused from her orgasm, and still reacting on instinct more than anything, she wraps her legs around him, welcoming him eagerly.

He snarls and starts fucking her savagely. He wants her to _feel_ it for days afterwards. He wants to brand her, wants to _own_ her. He can mark her, torment her, push her to the limits of pain and pleasure, but it’s not enough, it’s never _enough_.

He’d wanted her from that first moment, years ago, when she’d appeared on his viewscreen and threatened to destroy him, his crew, and his ship. And after they’d been forced to join forces, he’d been resentful as hell when she’d demanded sexual favors from him in exchange for the safety of his crew—but not resentful enough to _refuse_ to warm her bed, not when it was something he’d wanted anyway.

He’d warm her bed every night for the next 70 years if it meant she wouldn’t sleep with anyone else, and he could have her all to himself the way he wants. But he’s not stupid enough to actually make that demand. It would only end with her kicking him out of her bed, or sleeping with other people even _more_ , or both. He snarls again thinking about that comment she’d made about Paris, earlier. _Paris_ , of all people!

All he can do is make sure that she knows deeply, viscerally, down to her bones, that the sex will never be as good with anyone else as it is with him. Certainly none of the other people he’s fucked here in the Delta Quadrant can hold a candle to _her_. He hasn’t bothered sleeping with anyone else in months. It’s always so disappointing. 

He changes the angle of penetration, trying to work her up towards another climax. He wants her to come at least once more, on his cock, so he can feel her cunt clenching down on him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

The fog of confusion has burned away from her by now, consumed by lust, and she’s meeting him thrust for thrust, taking what he’s giving with equal ferocity. 

He keeps pounding into her, and she’s so hot, wet, perfect, _his_. The sounds she’s making right now are like music. He knows, distantly, at some point, his body will give out, but he just wants to keep fucking her as long as possible, he never wants to stop— _mine mine mine_ **_mine_** —

“Come on me,” she gasps out. 

He startles so badly his hips stutter and it takes him several seconds to get his rhythm back. “ _What_?” He can’t possibly have heard that right. She’s _never_ —

She snarls at him. “ _Come_ on me, you bastard! Are you deaf?!”

That’s all it takes. He thrusts once, twice, three times more, and then pulls out, coming in thick stripes across her face, her belly, her tits. At the same instant, he dials the vibrating sensor-pads still attached to her up to maximum.

She screams and convulses, thrashing violently in the throes of her orgasm, and then _squirts_ , which is something he’s never see her do before. And then she just _collapses_ , as if the strain was too much for her body. 

Chakotay unbinds her wrists. And then he turns off the glove apparatus, taking it off and removing the sensor-pads from her body.

When he’s done, he actually sits back for a moment, marvelling at the sight of Captain Kathryn Janeway, one of the most feared captains in two quadrants of the galaxy, wrecked, nearly unconscious, and _wearing his come_. 

After a few minutes, she sighs and stretches, eyes fluttering open again. And then she drags her fingers through the come on her tits, and _licks it off of her fingers._ Looking directly into his eyes the entire time. 

Chakotay’s cock twitches at the sight. He’s nowhere near ready to go again, but he _wants_ to be. 

When Kathryn’s done licking her fingers clean, she drags them through his come again—and this time, offers her fingers to him, with a challenging expression, as if daring him. 

If she’s waiting for him to balk, she’s going to keep waiting. He slowly, sensually, licks and sucks every one of her fingers clean. And then, not to be outdone, he licks up the rest of his come off of her body. 

When he’s done, he pulls her to him, her back to his front, both of them laying on their sides. He brushes a few sweaty locks of her hair off of her forehead.

He knows just about how long it’s going to take before she tells him to go. Right before they hit that limit, he starts to get up and leave.

“You could stay.” The tone of her words is casual, nonchalant. But there’s the faintest undercurrent of something _not_ casual.

He freezes. She’s only asked this once or twice before, and usually there’s an ulterior motive. “If I do, am I going to wake up bound and gagged again?” That’s how she’d gotten the drop on him last time.

“Maybe.” Kathryn rolls over to face him and smirks. “Or maybe you’ll wake up with my mouth on your cock.” She shrugs. “Hard to say.”

He tries and fails to suppress a shiver at the thought. He loves fucking her pretty mouth. “Or maybe I’ll wake up first, and _you’ll_ be the one spending the day bound and gagged.”

“Maybe,” she agrees. “Of course, if you do that, then you wouldn’t be able to fuck me across the desk in my ready room.”

Now she’s playing dirty. She’s only ever let him eat her out in her ready room. Bending her over that desk and fucking her brains out is one of his top unfulfilled fantasies. And she knows it, because one time she’d shackled him to the wall and tormented him for hours and refused to let him come until he told her all of his dirtiest fantasies about her. 

Not that he hadn’t returned the favor as soon as she’d let her guard down, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

Although speaking of one of _her_ unfulfilled fantasies—“Aren’t we firing on that planetary colony tomorrow as a show of strength?” he asks. “What if I fucked you facing the viewport so you can watch those cities burn while I take you?”

She shivers delightfully. “Oh. _Yes_. That sounds like a _wonderful_ idea.” She leans forward and bites him on the neck, almost gently. It’s going to leave a mark but there’s no blood.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, looking forward to whatever the morning brings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I started off writing them as mutually using each other and ended up writing the Briarwoods in space: Evil as Fuck: Yes; Willing to Break the World for Each Other: Yes; Stupidly in Love: Also Yes


End file.
